


UNYIELDING

by yerevasunclair1965



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerevasunclair1965/pseuds/yerevasunclair1965
Summary: So this is my first fanfic ever... i hope i could still write more..i had doubts of posting this.. but i decided to really give it a try... all characters are owned by GRRM.





	UNYIELDING

Weary of riding, weary of duty. 

Catelyn Stark lied on her bed and closed her eyes. She prayed for Robb’s safe return and his success in capturing the Kingslayer who crippled Bran. 

Robb, just a boy of 14 already hailed King in the North. Fierce he may be, braced and armed to father a kingdom he appears to be, but his time had come too soon. 

Who else would? He said. 

He has to win the war or they will never be able to save Sansa from the Lannisters including Arya, if ever someone possibly knows where she is or what has truly become of her. 

It brimmed Catelyn with profound worry and grief.

I want to cry. I should unbear all this heaviness just once.

But burden did not bring tears to her eyes. It only tightened her chest even more. She breathed achingly, pleading further to the seven gods to protect her other children who have endured enormously. 

What is Sansa doing now? Has she eaten? Where is she sleeping? I sense she’s very frightened. 

And poor Arya, has anyone seen her? Is she most likely dead? I refuse to believe so. There’s still no word about either. Perhaps she’s hiding somewhere else…She’s a fighter too. 

My younger ones, Bran and Rickon. They must be missing me terribly. Must i send a raven to tell them how much i also miss them both? That i’ll be home soon? 

Behind her eyelids, the darkness turns into the light image of her children. All complete, all smiling. She knows their hopes and dreams but now they are broken and gone, along with their father. Ned, her quiet wolf.

She remembers him as the stranger who barely said anything at all but when he returned from Robert’s wars, he reached out to her. He always found time for her to share stories of their childhood; His years of being fostered at the Eyrie by the wise Jon Arryn and her recount of the fond games she and her siblings played by the river beside the castle. More nights together passed until they slowly learned to confide everything to each other. His eyes would look at her intently to listen to her fears and troubles. She realised there was some sweetness with his gaze. 

He’s not harsh at all like what they say, That’s just his lord’s face.

She rests her head on his chest, that spot with his scar and he’d embrace her. He then combs her hair with his fingers while his other hand would slowly take hers. Ned always adored her slender hands, just around an inch smaller than his, very silky and delicate. He loved every beautiful part of her. As for Cat, nothing compared to the warmth his broad shoulders and strong arms gave. 

Even now, she still feels them wrapping around her waist, with his breath in the back of her ears. 

For a second she wakes, thinking she heard his voice. 

“Cat…” 

She looks beside her. There was only emptiness. 

He’s not here anymore. She reminds herself bitterly. 

I feel so weak and alone without him. Ned and our daughters ought never went to King’s Landing. He belongs to me and that cursed land stole him away from me. The same way it summoned his father and brother to their tragic fates. 

She reminisces the last time she saw him there. The forlorn way of how they held and kissed. 

His lips quivered against hers, so she threw her arms around him and pressed him firmly to soothe his dread. Ned grips on a little longer, relishing the solace he needed blisteringly. 

As they leisurely loosen their clasp, Ned cups her face, then strokes her high cheekbones. He stares at her one more time, for a moment of bright glow that becomes woeful despair. 

I never should have let him go. 

Remorse gashes her heart, in its deep furrows the thorns crawled and grew longer until she excruciatingly untangles them the instant it wreathed her throat cruelly. 

I can’t bear it anymore, Ned. I really can’t. 

“You can, You must…..” 

“You must never give the enemy his wish…” 

The whispers conceal her bareness with some strength. Every pain inflicted shreds her down but she does not let them bend her knees to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh, adding more consolation to herself. 

I am a Tully. 

I am a Stark. 

These times when i’m most afraid, are the times when i can be the bravest.


End file.
